


Really Good Day

by SunnyD_lite



Category: Firefly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-04-18
Updated: 2007-04-18
Packaged: 2017-10-07 17:46:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,028
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/67605
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SunnyD_lite/pseuds/SunnyD_lite
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Companion may have many skills, but bookkeeping wasn't one she favored. He'd have to wait a bit but, if he timed it just right...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Really Good Day

**Author's Note:**

> **tamingthemuse**'s prompt:Abacus  
> A/N: For everyone just finishing or in the middle of tax time!

"Inara not gracing us with her presence this morning?" He slid into his usual seat at the table, noting the dirty dishes waiting to be washed. He wondered who'd lost at cards recently.

Kaylee put a bowl of an oatmeal type substance in front of him, smiling and answered. "Oh no Capt. It's account day, so I'll be taking her up a tray. She never remembers to eat when she's working the numbers."

"Mighty nice of you, just don't be lingering as I know that I heard something off with the left drive."

"It's all shiny, Captain. I just need to..."

"Don't be telling me, just be doing it." He knew he sounded gruff, but a glance let him know she took no harm from it. Shaking his head he wasn't sure if he should worry that he couldn't scare his mechanic, or worry the day he did.

Accounts day. The Companion may have many skills, but bookkeeping wasn't one she favored. He'd have to wait a bit but, if he timed it just right...

He wandered up to the bridge, where he plopped himself in the co-pilot's chair. Spinning around he took in the headings and the instrument readings. He trusted Wash, but there'd be no harm in having skill redundancies. So he should brush up on flight skills. It weren't unusual. Least not to his way of thinking.

"Any change in course, Captain?"

And that was a mite worrisome, his pilot acknowledging his rank. He understood that Wash didn't have the military predilection for titles, which meant he was either pissed or taking the piss.

"Just a visit. You're not preventing me from visiting now, are you?" There, that was all natural-like. Serene even. He could do serene.

"Yes, I mean no, course not. It's accounts day, isn't it?"

And that was completely out of the Black.

"Looks good here. I'll be leaving her in your hands then. Right." Mal stiffly left the chair and headed to the cargo bay. Serene, he was sure he could do serene.

Unfortunately there was a lot of space in the cargo bay. When he'd bought her, he'd imagined these holds full to bursting. Fireflies, being known for their modifiable storage, he hadn't been fussed if it were completely legit. In fact, thumbing his nose at the Alliance, well it weren't an activity he'd be accused of being above.

But today his mind wouldn't stay on missed opportunities, or lack of opportunities. Instead, it kept flitting to the shuttle, and the shuttle's occupant. He still wasn't sure what he'd been thinking when he'd agreed to that lease. Oh she had logic on her side, and she was fair on the eyes, but that sharp tongue!

Turned out that sharp tongue, it was one of the things that he looked forward to. He was the Captain, and she barely acknowledged that fact in a way no other on the crew could, even his causal pilot. It was early yet, precision timing was key to any mission, not that he had a mission. Maybe he could find some snacks in the galley? Or maybe it was time for the hidden stores.

He leaned against the portal, not quite in but definitely not out of the shuttle. Just resting on the cusp between their areas of control. He'd done it all quiet like, and soaked in the sights.

The normally immaculate space was looking like the remnants of a disaster zone, or Jayne's bunk. There were papers and books open, her view screen had several windows flashing and Inara herself?

Strands of hair fell against her cheek where she'd been tugging at it. Her robes were wrinkled from the constant shifting she'd done to access all the information. But what tickled him to no end was the soft mutterings of some surprisingly inventive cuss words that were crossing those painted lips.

Suddenly she turned on him, glaring with the power of a welding torch with as fine a point.

"What are YOU doing here? Unless we are forced to abandon ship there is no emergency that is worth my attention right now. So go do whatever captains do. Shoo."

"Shoo?" He'd expected better that that. Hell, he held off to mid-afternoon for the pleasure of witnessing the thinning of her control and all he got was 'shoo'?

"I come bearing gifts," he held up the thermos and mugs.

"There are two mugs there."

He mockingly shivered at her cold tone. "See, when the others said you had trouble with numbers I knew they were wrong, you counted those first try."

"Mal, I don't have time for this right now." She turned away from him and began working on her abacus. He was distracted by the elegant fingers dancing with a swift tempo over the beads. The flickering bore a striking similarity the moves on that dulcimer he'd only seen her play a few times, despite hearing her practicing on a mostly daily basis.

There was strength in those fingers, the deceptive strength of bone china. Frail to look upon, steel-strong where needed. Not much got past that strength, not many a thing could weaken it.

Numbers could.

He headed over to a small table away from the snow-covering of papers that had taken occupation of a good two thirds of the space. After pouring the coffee, real coffee, from the thermos, he pulled out a couple of what his mother had called biscuits from his hidden stash. Proper rations were necessary in any battle.

"You're not still here, are" there was a pause as she sniffed the air, "Is that coffee?"

"And chocolate."

"I could kiss you." The look of shock on her face at that slip was almost as warming as the words themselves.

"No need to go to extremes; thought we'd mentioned no servicing the crew." He passed over one of the thick blue pottery mugs Kaylee had picked up last landfall. Twasn't delicate, but serviceable. Not much on this ship fit with Inara. Almost odd how well she fit with the ship.

He sank back into her comfortable chaise. Yup there were many ways to have a really good day.


End file.
